


Set Them Free

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Romance, The Mentalist Big Bang 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>If you love somebody, set them free.</i> (Sting)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU to the whole series. Written for The Mentalist Big Bang at mentalist_bb. A huge thank you to my artist kathiann and to my beta Miss_Peg, who also gave me some useful advice about a key plot point.  
> Cover image courtesy of kathiann.
> 
> (Please note that this story contains spoilers for episodes 6x01 and 6x02, even though the storyline has little to do with season 6 at all.)  
> 

 

Patrick Jane was a man who enjoyed living life to the fullest. In a way it was payback for everything that he'd lacked in his childhood; he'd never known his mother, while his father was nothing but a tyrant who took advantage of his child's skills in order to make the money he promptly wasted on gambling.

He had come a long way since he left the carnival; the lonely boy had turned into a somewhat cynical man, who only looked at people as a source of income or a means to an end. Women were his favorite prey; with his silver tongue and his charming smile he always managed to wrap them around his little finger, so that he could lure them into his bed and get a substantial payment for his supposed services at the same time.

It wasn't difficult for him to play the part of a psychic, all he had to do was tell people exactly what they wanted to hear. He could read them like open books, and felt no guilt whatsoever about deceiving them; as a matter of fact they needed the lies he told them, otherwise they wouldn't have turned to a psychic in the first place.

However, there was a nagging voice at the back of his mind that always reminded him how all of this was not enough. He wasn't actually happy, though he struggled to pretend so; there was still something missing, even if he couldn't say what.

Until he started consulting for the California Bureau of Investigation.

At first he thought it funny that the police would ask for his help; he'd never believed there was such thing as psychics, and he for sure wasn't one. However, their latest victim was one of his former clients; it was a piece of cake for him to give them some useful pointers, so that the case turned out to be an open-and-shut one.

The CBI boss was utterly pleased with it, and begged him to consider the option of becoming a regular consultant for their agency. Virgil Minelli was no fool; he'd probably seen right through his act, and yet he still valued his insights into human nature as utterly precious.

In the end Jane decided he had a very precise reason to offer his services to the Bureau, and that had very little to do with Minelli's speech. The simple truth was that he'd laid his eyes on the petite brunette that was the leader of the Serious Crimes Unit; the same one who had barely managed to restrain herself from punching him on the nose several times throughout their brief cooperation.

Teresa Lisbon was different from any other woman he'd met so far; her no-nonsense attitude was a pleasant novelty to him, and the idea of throwing her off balance thrilled him to no ends. She was also extremely attractive, though she always tried to hide the fact behind her professional façade and her bossy attitude.

He could tell she wasn't pleased at all about her superior's decision, but she accepted it as a necessary evil. Anyway, he had a feeling that she wasn't so unaffected by his charms as she wanted him to believe; that was why he started flirting mercilessly with her, and he truly enjoyed the easy banter they fell into after a couple of weeks.

Little by little his fascination with the petite firecracker grew deeper. She was his exact opposite: strong, passionate, honest and caring; they always said that opposites attracted, and he couldn't agree more this time around.

When he first asked her out on a date he felt as nervous as a schoolboy; that was probably what finally prompted her to say yes, which earned her the first genuine smile on his part. He discovered the pleasure of being himself that night; no masks, no acts, just the real him and the woman who felt like home to him now.

There was a tiny hint of disappointment in her eyes when he walked her to the door, and his kiss landed on her cheek. However, he wanted so much more than a one-night stand from her; he had to make sure she understood that before taking the next step in their relationship.

Of course he couldn't refrain from some wildly extravagant gesture, like getting down on his knee in the middle of the bullpen and presenting her with a beautiful solitaire ring. Teresa blushed crimson, all eyes were on her as she struggled to find the words; he counted each of his breaths until she eventually said yes.

They got married in Malibu, then spent their honeymoon in the house that was his refuge when he wanted some space from the madding crowd. That was what happiness felt like, how he would always remember it in the years to come; just him and Teresa, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Reality set upon them as soon as they were back in Sacramento. Teresa wasn't happy with him still giving private readings from time to time, said it wasn't fair of him to deceive vulnerable people who'd just lost their loved ones. He simply couldn't make her understand he actually did it for her; the meagre paycheck he received from the CBI wasn't enough to ensure them the kind of life he wanted to give her, but in the end he just gave in to her request.

There was a child on the way, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset his expectant wife.

Also, the prospect of becoming a father finally prompted him to question the mistakes in his past; he vowed he was going to be a better man for the sake of his child, make sure they could be proud of him someday. The day Kaitlyn was born was one that would be permanently engraved in his memory palace for the rest of his life; his daughter was the most beautiful thing in this world, he would go to the ends of Earth to make sure she was safe, loved, and happy.

He still had no idea what fate had in store for his precious little family.


	2. Chapter 2

Teresa Lisbon was a down-to-earth woman, who had no time for nonsense in her life. After a disastrous childhood she'd eventually managed to take charge of her life, get the job of her dreams and start a very promising career within law enforcement.

She was the youngest among team leaders, and one of the very few women who could actually get such a position; things couldn't have been better, until a certain someone crashed into her life and changed everything. Within five minutes from their first encounter she felt the uncontrollable urge to punch Patrick Jane on his arrogant face; later on she even considered shooting him, especially when her boss informed her that the jackass was going to work under her supervision from then on.

Even more so because she found him attractive and irksome in equal parts, and this unfortunate circumstance only added insult to injury. She could tell exactly what kind of man he was, one who considered women as a pleasurable distraction and dumped them as soon as his fascination with them started to fade.

However, risk was something that invariably sought to attract her even further; deep down she had to admit she enjoyed arguing with the man, their banter a welcome distraction from the dullness of her daily routine. The way he flirted with her left her completely unimpressed, even though she was secretly flattered that he took the time to do so when he could have any woman he wanted.

Things turned different when she suddenly sensed he was now courting her for real. His eyes were utterly serious when he showed up in her office and asked her out for dinner; the fact that he was actually fidgeting made her suspect for the first time that he'd fallen for his own game. Much to her own surprise she really enjoyed their evening out, though she was more than a little surprised when he declined her offer for a belated cup of tea; she would have expected him to grab the chance, while he was being all gentlemanly instead.

The moment he got down to his knee and proposed to her in the middle of the bullpen was one of the most awkward in her entire life. However, there was a voice at the back of her mind that was screaming to just say yes; and so she did, even against her better judgment.

Later on she would marvel at this unexpected turn of events; she had never considered him to be the marrying kind, as a matter of fact.

Their honeymoon was like a dream to her; he treated her like a fairytale princess, and his Malibu house was their castle. She had a shrinking suspicion that their daughter had been conceived there, as they made love to the rhythmic sound of the ocean.

Kaitlyn had been the biggest surprise of her life; she'd thought they'd been careful and yet, just a few weeks after their return to Sacramento she found herself staring at the pink lines on a stick that claimed she was indeed pregnant. Her husband was all too happy about the news, and eventually agreed he would stop giving private readings; something she'd been asking of him for a while, for she couldn't approve of living with the money he conned out of other people.

Balancing her life between work and her family wasn't always easy now that there was a child to take care of, but somehow she managed to. Her daughter was the light of her life, she could barely understand her previous decision not to have any children.

Then came the Red John case.

Kaitlyn was about five, and Lisbon felt deeply guilty for leaving her in the care of a nanny during the long hours she spent at work. Minelli had clearly said it was imperative they got the case closed, and fast; the serial killer was turning bolder with each victim he took, they couldn't allow him to spread terror throughout the state.

She couldn't even begin to understand the fact that Patrick found the study of the madman's psychology somewhat amusing; he'd always had fun in battling wits with criminals, but she had a feeling that Red John wouldn't be such an easy nut to crack.

One fine afternoon Minelli summoned her to his office, showed her an interview that her consultant had given to the local television; among other things he discussed the Red John case, said that the serial killer was a disturbed man and they would soon get to him. Her boss wasn't pleased at all about it, and she felt anger bubbling up inside of her as well. Insulting a serial killer on TV was worse than playing with fire; even an idiot would have known better than that, but she hadn't counted on her husband's swollen ego.

She gave him a serious reprimand, warned him she was going to kick him out of the CBI if he ever did anything that foolish again. They didn't exchange a single word on their way home, Lisbon was still furious at him and wondering what the consequences of his rash words might be.

Her question was answered sooner than she'd ever expected; their house was eerily quiet, all lights were off and the nanny was nowhere to be found.

Instinctively she went for her gun, her heart beating faster as she bolted for the stairs.

A creepy smiling face was looming in the dim light of a lamp, just over Kaitlyn's bed; for the briefest of moments she prayed that this was nothing but a nightmare, then her eyes fell on the butchered body of her child.

A piercing scream hovered at the back of her throat, but she couldn't let out any sound. Red John had acted fast, he'd punished Patrick for his foolish words and their daughter had been the one to pay.

Slowly she became aware of her husband's presence, he was standing beside her with a look of horror written all over his face.

"This is your fault," was all she managed to say; then she turned her back to him and cried.


	3. Chapter 3

It took him six months in Dr. Sophie Miller's care to recover some semblance of sanity after the nervous breakdown that followed his daughter's murder. Patrick Jane couldn't help blaming himself for what happened; Teresa was right, he should have known better than to slander a serial killer on television. The only thing that helped him work his way out of the red haze that had settled in his brain was the thought that he had to make sure justice would be done; he needed to see the serial killer pay for his crimes, craved to cut him open exactly like he'd done with Kaitlyn.

When Sophie Miller finally stood in front of him at the end of the corridor that would bring him back to the outside world, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. He was deeply grateful for what she'd done for him, he would have been utterly lost without her.

However, the worried look in Sophie's eyes told him there was more to come; in the end she let out a soft sigh and rested a soothing hand on his shoulder, his brow furrowing in surprise.

"I'm afraid I have to give you some bad news. Your wife moved out of your house as soon as you got here; and she also asked for a legal separation."

The last shards of Jane's heart crumbled to dust at those words. He honestly couldn't blame Teresa for her decision; he'd been the one to anger Red John, and that had resulted in the death of their beloved child. It was no wonder that she never wanted to see him again, but that didn't mean the very idea hurt him any less.

His wife was the one thing he had left now that Kaitlyn was no more; he still loved her like the first day and yet, some things just couldn't be undone. With a slight nod of his head he turned away from Dr. Miller and slowly walked out of the building.

What he was going to do from now on, he just couldn't say.

He still had the keys of their old house, but going there didn't feel right; not without his precious family anyway. That was why he stopped at a nearby hotel; there he spent the rest of the day lying on the unfamiliar bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to pick up the pieces of the mess that was now his life.

After a sleepless night he dug out the piece of paper Sophie had slipped into his pocket; it was his wife's current address, the psychiatrist wasn't supposed to tell him but had still wanted to help. He took a cab, then stared at the apartment's door for a good ten minutes before summoning the courage to knock.

Teresa's face fell as soon as she caught a glimpse of him standing on her threshold. "What are you doing here?" she inquired at last, her tone anything but friendly.

"I got out of the hospital yesterday. I think we need to talk."

His wife hesitated for a moment, then eventually let him in. However, it was apparent that she'd only done it in order to avoid a scene on her doorstep, where her neighbors could hear them.

"I'm not sure there's anything much to say," she said at length, pouring herself another glass of wine from the half-empty bottle that was standing on her coffee table. "You got our daughter killed, remember?"

Her last sentence made him visibly flinch; he wasn't really expecting her to be so blunt, and he bowed his head in defeat.

"I'm sorry. I loved Kaitlyn as much as you did; if only there was something I could do to bring her back, I would."

A humorless laughter fell from Teresa's lips. "You're sorry. I guess that settles everything then."

Tears began gathering at the corner of his eyes, but he still struggled to keep his voice steady. "I know that's not enough; but, what else can I do?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "I don't care. Do whatever you like. Our marriage is over, I'm not supposed to be looking after you anymore."

"Teresa," he started, raising a tentative hand to her cheek; however, she promptly cut him short, taking another step away from him.

"Patrick. There's just one thing you can do for me, and that is getting out of my sight. Did I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear," he replied at last, finally leaving her alone.

He didn't bother calling another cab, simply walked away instead; he only realized it was drizzling when the rain started seeping through his clothes. More guilt set on his chest; he'd never seen his wife so broken, and he knew he was the one to blame. It broke his heart to see her like that, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help her.

Well, there actually was one thing he could do.

Catching Red John wouldn't bring their daughter back, but that was what they both needed before they could eventually move on. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to win back Teresa's love and trust, but he owed her something nonetheless.

Kaitlyn deserved justice, just like all of the serial killer's victims; this was the only way their families could finally get some peace. That was the reason why he had to get back to his position as a consultant for the CBI, so that he could be a part of the investigation; and if he ever managed to lay his hands on Red John, then he would make sure that the serial killer couldn't hurt other innocent people.

Of course the last part was something he couldn't share with the CBI director; as for the rest, he hoped that Virgil Minelli would see the benefits of him working on the case, even if it hit too close to home, he was in too deep.

If he had nothing else to live for, then he was going to live for revenge.

Once he got that, his life wouldn't matter anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

In the aftermath of her husband's hospitalization, Teresa Lisbon was left alone with her demons. She couldn't bring herself to keep on living in the same house where her beloved child had been brutally murdered; that was why she simply packed her things and rented a small apartment that wasn't too far from the CBI headquarters.

In the following months she barely took any interest in her husband's condition; she needed time and space to mull things over, needed to stop thinking about him at all. Given her Catholic upbringing she was reluctant to get a divorce, but deep down she knew that was exactly what she wanted; in the end she settled for a legal separation, and she was secretly grateful that she'd never bothered to change her name after their marriage, so that she wouldn't be forced to do it again now.

Her colleagues did their best to support her, especially the members of her team; Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby were like family to her, the only family she could turn to now. They worked hard to get a new lead on the Red John investigation; but the serial killer was more elusive than ever, and that only had her teetering on the verge of depression.

For all that she'd always hated alcohol due to the trouble it had caused her family in the past, she took up drinking a little more than she would have liked. It helped her numb the pain, and even though she knew it wasn't a good idea she just lacked the energy to fight against the temptation. A couple of times she ended up skipping work because of it, although Cho and Rigsby always covered for her, saying that she was actually sick.

However, that was signal enough for her to seek help; her therapist supported her as she struggled to reduce the amount of alcohol she needed to keep going. She was in the middle of this personal battle against the bottle when Patrick crashed back into her life.

At least he had the sense to understand that she needed space from him, or so she thought at first. The last thing she expected was Virgil Minelli asking her if she could handle working with her former husband again.

She gave in to a slightly hysterical laughter; that would mean spending the better part of her time with him again, and that for sure could only be the final blow to her frazzled nerves. Anyway, she knew from experience that Patrick never relented when it came to achieving his goals; then there was the fact that his help could actually come in handy with a criminal as smart as Red John.

That was how one morning she found herself glaring at her consultant – from now on she would only think of him as that – while informing him that they were going to work together on the Red John case, and that their partnership would end as soon as they caught the serial killer.

"Thank you, Teresa," he said softly, but she didn't let him finish.

"It's Lisbon to you. I'm your boss, and you work for me. That's all."

The next six months were nothing short of a living hell. Jane – that was how she referred to him when she was compelled to – seemed to have fallen back to his old habits, wreaking havoc wherever he went. She had a hard time in trying to rein him in; the furious arguments they shared in the relative privacy of her office did nothing whatsoever to convince him he should behave.

Lisbon had a shrinking suspicion that he actually did it in order to get her attention; mercifully he now refrained from mentioning the fact that he was still in love with her, but she'd caught him time and time again staring at her with a wistful look in his eyes. However, she simply couldn't afford wasting her time and energy pitying him; he didn't deserve it, and she had to look after herself for once in her life, otherwise she would end up losing her sanity over him.

And anyway, Cho and Rigsby were the ones to pity, whenever they got caught in the crossfire of the unresolved tension between their boss and her consultant.

"You have to stop acting like a three-year-old," she kept warning him, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

"You can't tell me what to do," he always shot back. "You're not my wife anymore, remember?"

"But I'm still your boss."

"Minelli is my boss, not you."

There were times at night when she stared into the darkness surrounding her, wishing she could bring herself to forgive him, so that they could finally move on. She knew that Jane was suffering as much as she was, maybe even more because of the burden of his guilt; and yet there was simply nothing she could do about it, no matter how many times her confessor had prompted her to make peace with the past.

Still it scared her when she caught the manic glint that always showed in his eyes whenever Red John was involved.

"Do you really think that catching him would make you feel any better?" she unwittingly asked him as they were walking away from a crime scene.

A dangerous smile touched his lips. "We'll see," he said nonchalantly. "I'll make sure he pays for what he's done at the very least."

"What do you mean by that?" she prompted him again, a sense of foreboding sending a shiver down her spine.

"When I find him, I won't let you arrest him. Red John is mine."

She shook her head, anger and worry bubbling inside of her in equal parts. "Red John is nobody's."

"He's mine, I tell you. I'm going to cut him open, look him in the eyes as he draws his last breath."

Lisbon stopped aghast. "You can't do that," she blurted out in a horrified tone.

"I can, and I will."

"I will arrest you then."

"I don't care."

That night she cried herself to sleep, wondering what had she done for her life to go so spectacularly wrong once again.


	5. Chapter 5

He hated it when Teresa was upset. In spite of the fact that he could never bring himself to listen to her orders, it still pained him that the only way he had to get her attention was by angering her. He knew that she was working hard to stay sober; knew it and yet, he craved every little bit of her attention.

The anniversary of Kaitlyn's death was drawing closer, and he promised himself he would at least give her some space on that occasion. He took a few days' leave, spent some time by his daughter's grave before retreating to his old Malibu refuge. As a matter of fact he now hated that house as much as he hated himself; he'd been happy there with Teresa, and later on with their little girl, but now any happiness was denied to him.

However, he had to get back sooner than he ever intended; in the morning Cho called to inform him that Red John had chosen that one special day to take one more victim, and quite a young one too.

When he finally made it to the crime scene he found Teresa standing there with a haunted look on her face. The little girl bore a striking resemblance to Kaitlyn, and that was probably the reason why Red John had chosen her; he fought back the urge to bang his fists against the wall, opting for wrapping a supporting arm around his wife's shoulders instead.

He knew that Teresa was far more shattered than she cared to admit when she allowed him to take her away from the mocking face painted in blood; however, she insisted that she was going to keep doing her job, only to relent when Virgil Minelli showed up and ordered her to take a day of mandatory leave.

Jane wearily sat down on the doorstep, watching as the CBI boss drove her away. It wasn't fair that she had to go through this once more; Red John never had a personal vendetta against her, he was the one the serial killer wanted to hurt though he did it through the one person he still cared about.

When Cho and Rigsby were done they told him to go home; they could handle everything for the rest of the day, while he'd better take some personal time. He was about to object, when the thought of Lisbon alone in her apartment hit him full force; she could use some comfort, and though he wasn't her better option he still felt the need to check on her.

His heart clenched when he finally stood in front of the forlorn figure that was curled up in a corner of the sofa, wearing nothing but an oversized jersey and clinging onto a glass of tequila as if it had suddenly become her lifeline.

"I'm sorry," he said, but she looked at him as if she couldn't understand what he was saying.

He stared helplessly at her when tears started to roll down her cheeks, until she shook with sobs. For the first time in her life she was letting go completely, and it was a sight that would have melted a heart of stone.

"Teresa, darling. I'm so sorry for everything," he repeated over and over, as he took her in his arms and rocked her gently against him.

Her fingers instinctively closed around the lapels of his jacket, and she buried her head in the crook of his neck. "I can't," she let out in between sobs. "I don't know what to do."

He brushed his lips on her temple, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Little by little she was beginning to calm down, and she snuggled closer as if to seek his protection.

"Patrick," she murmured in a small, broken voice. His heart momentarily stopped when she tilted her head and sought his lips.

 

* * *

 

She'd tried to be strong, but the sight of a little girl lying in a pool of blood immediately brought her back to that fateful night. The child was about Kaitlyn's age, and she could almost hear Red John laughing at the pain he'd brought to her once more. Lisbon had wished she could blame it on her husband as well; but the hard cold truth was that the serial killer actually enjoyed playing games with them, he didn't care for his young victims as long as they managed to upset her and Patrick by default.

As Minelli drove her home she struggled to compose herself; it wouldn't do for her to show her weakness in front of her boss, but once she was alone in the quiet of her apartment she felt like she couldn't bear it anymore.

That was why she dug a bottle of tequila out of the cupboard, seeking comfort in the only way that was familiar to her. She was so tired she didn't even have the energy to fight when Jane showed up at her door; she simply let him in, then sank back into the cushions of her couch. Life sucked, that was the only thing that would never change.

Then Patrick sat down beside her, murmuring soothing words as if he cared. She wanted to hate him and yet, she just couldn't; he was the one person who really understood her, especially when it came to the loss of their child.

His lips left traces of fire on her skin, and all of a sudden she found herself craving for so much more.

Her brain finally managed to shut down every coherent thought as she embraced him, her eyes begging him to give her what she needed more than everything. It didn't take him long to eventually give in; Patrick had never stopped loving her, his kisses turning frantic as he helped her to her feet and they made their way to her bedroom.

For a moment she felt whole again, as he pushed himself inside of her and buried his face against her neck; then everything turned into a haze of pleasure and pain.


	6. Chapter 6

He was marginally surprised when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed; then memories of the previous night flooded back to him, and he immediately turned around only to find the other half of the bed cold and empty. That couldn't be a good sign, so he hastily put on his clothes and hurried downstairs.

Teresa was cradling a mug of coffee, but she placed it down on the kitchen counter as soon as she saw him. "I'm already late for work," she said. "Make sure you shut the door on your way out."

Her tone was the one she specially reserved for bad days, and his heart sank; it was clear that she now regarded their night together as nothing but a stupid mistake, the very thought making him sick to the stomach.

"Please, wait," he begged her, but he was well aware he was fighting a losing battle. Nothing he could say was ever going to make her change her mind.

"Don't say a word," she warned him, raising her palm. "I was upset, and a bit drunk too. Forget that it ever happened."

"But it did," he said somewhat desperately. "You can't take it back like this."

"Jane. One night together doesn't change anything."

He shook his head. "It proves that you still care for me."

"Come on. It could have been any other man. You can't be serious."

"I just think we should stop fighting each other. It only adds more weight to the burdens we have to carry."

A grimace passed over her features. "I'm sorry, I can't forgive you. Maybe one day I will be able to, though I really doubt it."

He bowed his head, then waited for her to finally bolt for the door. Once again he'd got the two of them into a sorry mess; he knew she was vulnerable and yet, he'd taken advantage of her when she was at her weakest. It didn't matter that she'd been the one to turn to him for comfort, he should have known better than giving her what she asked.

He'd better go back to devising a plan to catch Red John, before the serial killer eventually managed to break Teresa's will. If only he could let go of her then his enemy would probably leave her alone, but he was too selfish to do that; wife or not, Teresa was the one person who kept him sane these days, he would be spiraling down into insanity but for her presence.

That was when it hit him; it was Red John or Teresa, he couldn't have them both.

If he actually succeeded in exacting his revenge on the serial killer, he would eventually blow up his last chance at winning back her love and trust; and he wasn't entirely sure that was a price he was willing to pay. In spite of her denial he was now sure that a small part of her still cared for him; losing her over his drive for revenge was the most foolish thing he could ever do.

He picked up the mug of lukewarm coffee she'd left on the counter; the bitterness of the beverage was nothing if compared to the feeling of loss that was nagging at the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

Lisbon was grateful that they didn't have a case that morning, so that she could hide in the safety of her office. She was way too busy berating herself anyway; what had happened between her and her former husband was proof positive of the effect Red John had upon her, and that was something she had to stop before things started escalating. She'd already had enough heartbreak to last an entire lifetime, and she definitely couldn't afford any more, she would stop feeling guilty over the death of another innocent child, she simply had to.

It was a small mercy that Jane had the decency not to invade her privacy. He showed up late, then spent the rest of the day perched on his old couch; she had to fight back the urge to confront him once more, for she wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't end up saying something she was going to regret.

Like admitting that he was actually right; she still cared for him more than she would ever admit, but that was beside the point.

All that mattered was catching Red John, putting him safely behind bars so that he wouldn't take other lives. She also had to prevent her former husband from killing him, the very thought triggering the first signs of a brewing migraine. At least she had now learned her lesson; she couldn't even stand the sight of tequila anymore, and she was going to throw the bottle away as soon as she was back home.

It was high time she took her life in her own hands once more, focus on the job that was all she had left now. She'd already seen her father spiral out of control after the death of her mother, and she renewed her promise that she wouldn't end up that way. There were people who cared for her, people she could turn to when she needed comfort; the list didn't include Jane though, and she would make sure that it never would.

A break, that was exactly what she needed. She still had a ridiculous amount of days off owed to her, so it wouldn't hurt if she decided to take a brief vacation; her brothers would be surprised to see her, and she was sure that her niece would be utterly delighted to get to spend some time with her.

Jane didn't even open his eyes as she strode into the bullpen to inform her team; of course he wasn't actually sleeping, but she was utterly relieved that he'd chosen not to make a scene over it. She asked Cho to call her if anything important came up about the Red John investigation, but deep down she secretly hoped that that wouldn't be the case.

She needed a temporary reprieve from hunting the serial killer as well, especially since they didn't seem to be any closer to catching him; all the rest could wait until she was back in Sacramento.


	7. Chapter 7

Teresa Lisbon hated with a passion the rare occasions when she was sick. She didn't want other people to see her in a vulnerable state, and she always ended up feeling guilty for not being able to do her job at her very best. She never considered the option of taking sick leave; the very thought of skipping work irked her, unless she was too far gone to get out of bed.

The brief vacation she'd treated herself with had marginally helped with her mental balance, but she was still under the weather which she hadn't felt in years. Each and every time she put it down to the stress of her working conditions; she was forced to spend almost every day in close proximity with her former husband, and that only sought to bring bad memories to the front of her mind.

It was only when she found herself throwing up in the ladies' restroom that she started to worry. As much as she wanted to dismiss it as a naughty stomach bug, there was a little voice in her head that kept insinuating a most unwelcome doubt; she was never sick to the stomach unless she'd drunk too much, and that surely wasn't the case.

The last time she'd felt this way was right before she discovered she was expecting Kaitlyn; unfortunately there was every chance she could be pregnant from the one-night stand with her former husband, since they hadn't even considered using protection. The very idea was enough to trigger another bout of nausea; she couldn't handle the thought of bringing another child into the world, with the potential for them to be snatched out of it far before their time.

Once again she felt the urge to put the blame entirely on Jane; that had become a constant in her life, and yet in all honesty she knew she couldn't do that. She was the one to blame, if any; she'd been reckless and foolish just like him, and now she had to live with the consequences.

Still she clung to the hope that her fears would turn out to be groundless; however, her current mental state was so fragile she simply couldn't deal with seeking proof positive of what was actually going on with her. If it was confirmed that she was indeed with child, then she would have no idea of what to do; Red John was a menace all too real to even dare to hope he would leave her alone.

It was Jane who eventually took things in his hands. She didn't even want to dwell on the thought he might have guessed the reason of her current predicament, but for once he didn't press her to tell him the truth; he simply drove her back home, and said he would always look after her no matter what.

That evening she finally plucked up the courage to take the pregnancy test that had been sitting in her purse for about a week now; she counted each of her breaths before she opened her eyes at last, relief washing over her as it turned out negative.

She wasn't pregnant; whatever happened now, it couldn't be more terrifying than the prospect of another innocent child losing their life to the same deranged man.

 

* * *

 

Patrick Jane had always had a keen eye for details; it was only natural for him to pick up the subtle signs that signaled his wife's distress, and it didn't take him much longer to make the connection.

Teresa thought she might be pregnant. For a moment the idea was enough to scare the living daylights out of him, then he decided he had to take care of her if she was unable to; that was why he offered her some words of comfort, so that she would find the courage to take the last step and face whatever truth fate may have in store for her. He waited with bated breath for her to show up at work the following day; his own life was hanging on a thin thread now, they were playing a dangerous game with Red John even without throwing an unplanned pregnancy into the mix.

The first glimpse he caught of her face was enough to quell his fears; relief was written all over her features, and he sank back onto his couch. Thankfully he hadn't ended up putting her in a more risky position that the one she was already in; having a target painted on her back because of him was one thing, but it would have been a thousand times worse if she'd had another child to worry over.

He resolutely chose to ignore the tiny hint of disappointment that hovered at the back of his mind; that wasn't the time or place to be looking to be a father again, though he was utterly surprised that part of him could desire as much. No child in the world could ever take the place of Kaitlyn in his heart, and he wasn't sure he could face the idea of causing the death of yet another innocent creature; that couldn't change the fact that he was deeply in love with Teresa, under different circumstances he would be delighted at the idea of fathering yet another of her children.

Later that morning he sneaked into her office to place a steaming cup of tea on her desk; he knew she needed it, and it would be better for her stomach than her usual mug of coffee. He was about to leave when the door opened again; he waited patiently for a reprimand, but it never came.

"Thank you," she murmured instead, and he offered her a tentative smile.

"You would have been – you were – a wonderful mother, you know," he said softly, and he knew her thoughts immediately went to their little girl.

"I'm not sure I'll ever be able to have another child, but thank you all the same."

Her voice sounded so vulnerable he felt the urge to gather her into his arms. However, he was all too aware of the reasons why he shouldn't do that, so he simply nodded and walked out of the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Lisbon knew she should think better than falling for such a simple trick and yet, she just couldn't restrain herself. This might be her only chance to get to the serial killer she was chasing, and far away from Jane's eyes too; the fact that Red John had decided to send her a message was utterly suspicious, but in the end she didn't have anything to lose.

_Dearest Teresa, I'd like to have a word with you._

_Let's meet at your old house._

_Come alone._

_R.J._

She read those words all over again, no matter that she'd already learned them by heart; then she dug out her old key and pushed the door open. The house was dark and silent, and a shiver ran down her spine at the thought that her daughter's presence was still lingering among those walls. A moment later she quickly pushed the ridiculous idea to the back of her mind; she'd never believed in ghosts, and had faith that the only place her child could be was heaven.

Dust had gathered over every piece of furniture; as far as she knew no one had been there during the last year, but she still suspected that her former husband had spent more time in the room upstairs than she was comfortable to think about.

That was when a quiet laughter finally caught her attention; there was someone sitting on the armchair, and even though his face was still hidden in shadows she could easily guess who it was.

"Well met, my dear," the man said at last, and her hand instinctively went to her side. However, she could see the light reverberating on the barrel of his gun, so she simply let her hand drop.

"Who are you?" she asked, as she desperately racked her brain for some brilliant idea.

"I'm sure you already know the answer. You're a smart woman, Teresa."

"What do you want?"

He shook his head, his lips curling in a cruel smile. "My beautiful plan seems to have backfired in ways I wasn't expecting. I wanted to tear you and your precious husband apart, but it seems that I only managed to get you two back together instead."

A cold hand of fear settled over her heart; Red John knew about the night she'd spent with Jane, and he didn't look pleased at all.

"We're not together, it was just the one night," she shot back defiantly, though her voice trembled a little. "I don't think I could ever forgive him."

He shook his head once more. "Teresa, Teresa. Don't lie to me. I know you still care for him; that's why you have to go."

She all but shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere."

With that she jumped at him, but he was quicker than she expected; a searing pain shot through her head as he hit her with the back of his gun, then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

The only reason why Jane hadn't succumbed to a panic attack yet was that he had to find Teresa before it was too late. He was deeply grateful that Cho had got the wind up about what was going on with their boss, and decided to track down her cellphone. Now they were driving at breakneck speed towards his old Sacramento home, the one he still owned because he simply couldn't bring himself to let it go; it seemed that Red John had chosen to end this right where it had started, the very idea hitting him like a punch in the stomach.

"Breathe, Jane," Rigsby instructed him. "We're going to find her."

The house was eerily quiet, just like the night they'd come home to find their daughter dead in her bed; he whispered a silent prayer to a God he didn't believe in, hoping that they were going to make it in time.

His heart leaped in his chest when Cho and Rigsby emptied their guns on the dark figure that was looming over Teresa's recumbent form. He didn't dignify Red John with a second glance, his full attention focused on his wife and the gushing wound just below her collarbone. A wave of nausea rushed through him as he noticed that the madman had started painting his trademark signature right on her face, while his hands instinctively sought to stop the blood that spilled from the deep cut.

"Stay with me, Teresa," he begged as he desperately tried to discern her breathing.

He only stepped back when Cho gently pulled him away, so that Rigsby could give her some assistance while they waited for the paramedics to arrive.

"Red John's dead," his friend told him. "She's going to be alright."

However, he wasn't entirely sure about that; once again he was incredibly close to losing someone he deeply cared about, and to the same monster as well. If Teresa wasn't going to make it through, then neither would he. It was all his fault; he should have run as far from her as he could, so that the serial killer would have gone after him, leaving her alone.

When the paramedics finally got there he refused to leave her and was eventually allowed to ride with her in the ambulance. He held her hand the whole time, praying that she would wake up so that he could beg for her forgiveness.

"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt the umpteenth time, as he tried to wipe the dried blood away from her face. He couldn't manage to do it, and tears started trickling down his cheeks at last.

First Kaitlyn, and now Teresa. He should have learned his lesson, but he was always a stubborn, self-centered man who just couldn't bring himself to. If Teresa was going to survive, then he would do exactly what he should have done right from the start; he would give her back her freedom, so that she could pick up the pieces of her life and hopefully find some happiness with a better man than he could ever be.

As for himself, he could always look over her from a distance, until death came to mercifully release him from the misery that was his life.


	9. Chapter 9

He spent the next couple of days at his wife's bedside, without heeding his friends' offers to take his place so that he could get some rest. This was where he was supposed to be, until the doctors assured him that Teresa was finally out of the woods at the very least.

She looked so small and fragile in that hospital bed; it reminded him of their daughter, with her dark curls and the freckles that punctuated her angelic face. For the first time in months he allowed himself to thread his fingers through her hair, taking comfort in the softness that was once very familiar to him.

He loved her with every fiber of his broken heart, and if the one thing he could do for her was disappear from her life, then so be it. Teresa had always deserved better than him; he'd been selfish in trying to get back her love, but now he finally understood.

He had to let her go.

Even better, he would walk out of her life as soon as feasibly possible. He'd decided he would spare her the trouble of saying goodbye; when a nurse informed him that they were going to take her out of the medical coma, he placed one last kiss on her brow and stepped away.

There were a couple of things he had to do before leaving. First thing he paid a visit to his lawyer, arranged for his house in Malibu to be sold so that all the money would go to his wife; he also made sure that she would receive the divorce papers, something that would make that one final step she was still reluctant to take easier for her.

As for himself, he didn't really need anything for the kind of life he intended to lead from now on.

When Cho called to inform him that Teresa had got out of the hospital at last, he was already sitting on the nondescript bed of a shabby motel room across the border in Oregon. He briefly debated whether to send her a message, but in the end decided against it; his lawyer would take care of everything, and he wasn't entirely sure he was strong enough to resist the temptation to run back to her side once again.

Both Cho and Rigsby kept calling him from time to time; he was secretly grateful that they felt the need to keep in touch, for he had no other friends that could provide him with some comfort. That was how he got to hear about the official closure of the Red John case; they had eventually been able to prove that the man they'd taken down was indeed the serial killer, thanks also to the rookie that had joined the team in the aftermath of his departure.

Apart from the occasional conversations with his friends over the phone, he didn't have any real distraction. He kept moving from one small town to the next, stopping at whatever dingy motel he found along the way; there he spent the night staring into the darkness, or drinking himself to sleep so that he could get a brief respite from the ghosts of his past.

Now he was even denied the comfort of visiting his daughter's grave; still he talked to her in the long hours he passed behind the steering wheel, and her image often visited him in his sleep. Had he been a real psychic instead of a fraud, then he could have hoped to hear her voice one last time; however, he was all too aware that Kaitlyn couldn't hear him, and there was no way she would answer anyway.

It was late one night when he woke up from a dreamless slumber, wondering whether someone was really knocking at the door or he'd been imagining it. In the end he wearily got to his feet and threw the door open, only to receive the shock of his life.

Teresa Lisbon was standing on the threshold, looking so real and beautiful it took his breath away.

"This is just another of my dreams, right?" he murmured hoarsely, waiting for her to disappear.

She shook her head, then brushed past him. "Of course not, you idiot."

For a brief moment he wondered what she was doing there, then his brain finally provided him with a likely explanation.

"I'm not taking that money back, if that's why you're here."

She frowned, as if she didn't have the slightest idea of what he was talking about. "I never asked for your money, that is true; but you surely don't expect me to drive all the way to Oregon to discuss this?"

"I'm sure I've no idea."

With a sigh she perched onto the edge of the bed, her fingers twiddling the wedding band on her finger; he wasn't entirely sure why she kept wearing it, but then Teresa wasn't a woman that easily admitted defeat.

"You didn't even say goodbye," she said slowly, as if she found it difficult to broach the real subject of their conversation. "Rigsby was the one to tell me you were gone."

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "It was better that way. I've already caused you too much trouble, and I wanted to do the right thing for once in my life."

A humorless laughter fell from her lips, and he had to fight back the tears that were lingering at the corner of his eyes.

"You're free, Teresa. Go ahead with your life. Find someone to love, someone better than me."

"I can't," she whispered softly, her lips trembling ever so slightly. "Not when I'm still in love with you."


	10. Chapter 10

Once she was out of the hospital Lisbon marveled at the fact that Jane seemed to have disappeared into thin air. She was half expecting him to start following her everywhere in order to make sure she was safe and sound; even though she wasn't willing to admit it, she was a tiny bit disappointed that he didn't even take the time to check on her.

In the end Rigsby somewhat reluctantly informed her that her former husband had resigned from his consulting position with the CBI, and told his colleagues he was going to leave the state. That actually surprised her; he'd always been so stubborn in his clumsy attempts to get back her affections, but now he seemed to have suddenly changed his mind.

However, she could easily guess the reasons for it; he'd almost lost her to Red John, and now he wanted to make sure that nothing of the kind was ever going to happen again. The silly man.

A part of her was still angry at him over their daughter's death; however, coming so close to death herself had prompted her to reconsider some of the priorities in her life. She couldn't go on living in the past, especially now that the serial killer was finally gone; that wasn't what Kaitlyn would have wanted for her, and she had a feeling that her child wouldn't be happy at all to see her mother putting all the blame on her father.

When everything about the Red John case was eventually wrapped up, she decided to take a sabbatical; she needed some time for herself, to think things over and work out what to do with her life. She spent hours sitting on a bench at her church, or standing before her daughter's grave as if seeking her counsel; and in the end, she was finally faced with the truth.

She was still in love with her husband, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.

Deep down she'd always known he couldn't be held solely responsible for Kaitlyn's murder; he should have known better than to speak about a serial killer and yet, that didn't entitle the madman to take the life of an innocent child. She'd been so stricken with her own grief that she'd barely given any thought about the fact that Patrick had probably suffered as much, if not more than her.

At least she'd been spared from the burden of guilt he must have been carrying ever since that fateful night, when she'd ended up blaming the tragedy entirely upon him. They'd been tearing each other to pieces, when they should have supported each other instead; her confessor was right, anger didn't help in the slightest, while forgiveness actually might.

After one last visit to the cemetery, she knew that there was just one thing she should do; that was why she called Cho, asked him to trace her husband's cellphone.

The dingy motel where she tracked him down was even worse off than the one he'd been staying in when he was still in Sacramento. She addressed a silent prayer to God before knocking, asking Him to give her the strength to finally make peace with her past.

Patrick Jane couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her; vulnerability was apparent on his face, his mask gone at long last. The person that was standing before her was a broken, damaged man who desperately craved love and understanding, no matter that he tried to punish himself by denying this simple fact.

However, he was now struggling to keep her at arm's length; his mind seemed all set on giving her the chance to start a new life far away from him, it was kind of ironic that she'd come all the way there to ask him the exact opposite.

"I want to give us another chance," she managed to say at length. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and now I feel it's the right thing to do."

He stared at her for a moment, searching her eyes as if to make sure she really meant it.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," he replied slowly. "I've caused you enough heartbreak already, I don't want to bring more pain upon you."

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy; that doesn't change the fact I'm still willing to try."

"Don't mistake pity with love, Teresa. You can't really love me, not after what I've done."

That was when she noticed the picture that was resting on his bedside table; it was a snapshot of Kaitlyn, the paper all worn out at the edges as if he'd been keeping it in his pocket all the time.

"Our child, she would have wanted us to move on. Together."

He visibly flinched at those words, tears filling his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she instinctively rested her hand on his forearm.

"I'm sorry too; I've told you some horrible things, but I didn't really mean them."

They stood there for what felt an eternity, until his sobs eventually subsided; still she was reluctant to make the first move, she needed him to do it for her somehow. Awkwardly he ran his hands up her arms, then pulled her in for a tentative embrace.

Memories of their life together immediately flooded back to her, and she instinctively pulled away; however, that wasn't what she actually wanted, so she took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He felt so solid and warm against her, and this time she didn't even try to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

Life had torn them apart and yet, this was where she truly belonged. Consuming her life in hate and regret would be like letting Red John win, and that was the very last thing she wanted to do; it was going to take some time, but she was actually hopeful that things between them would eventually get better.

When Patrick began nuzzling her temple, she let out a contented sigh and relaxed into his arms.

Somewhere in heaven, their little girl was probably smiling.


End file.
